When Fate and Reality Intertwine
by Ztilo
Summary: What happens when an almost tragedy brings forth the life that should have been? **T for now, may become M eventually**
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Unfortunately I do not own Scandal, I only write about it. If I did I wouldn't be screaming at my TV every Thursday...

* * *

There's movement all around her. People, hands, voices. They're all over her, overwhelming each one of her sense. No a part of her is calm, none at piece. The pain, the touches, the discomfort reach her from the inside out and it's only as she's being lifted and strapped down, the wheels on the gurney beneath her bumpily rolling over the sidewalk, that she realizes that she's in an emergency room.

And she's the patient.

She opens her eyes slightly, small slits allowing light to reach brown and all she finds is white all around her. White walls, white lights, white sheets, and white lab costs. She panics for a second believing this is a different kind of white, a final light type of white, but soon she finds herself coming face to face with a brown face putting an oxygen mask over her and she sighs inwardly at the relief that she is still alive.

The air is cool and welcoming and if she could somehow find the ability to speak she'd find the way to say thank you.

The relief is only momentary, however, as she soon finds herself becoming cold as her clothing is cut and stripped all around her. She tries to stop them, tries desperately grab their hands and take the scissors away and give her some semblance of privacy but she knows it's futile. Her hands barely lift off the hard table under her eliciting the desire to attempt to move her legs as well but when she finds she can move those even less the panic surges fully within her and she finds herself gasping for breath.

It's no longer about what she _can_ feel, but what she _can't_ instead. She can't feel a lot, she now realizes. Too much. Little by little she feels less and less and the mask over her nose is no longer enough to do its job.

Monitors are screeching all around her, people are moving and screaming twice as fast and twice as loud as ever before. The mask is pulled harshly off her face and her head pushed back, the small slits of her open eyes allowing her to barely see becoming half as wide as the darkness looms all around her.

Someone is pulling her mouth open, she can taste the rubber against the insides of her cheeks and tongue, as hard cold metal clicks against her teeth.

It's the last thing she remembers, later it won't even be the only thing she remembers. She feels the metal as it's pushed into her throat and then she feels nothing else. Then she sees nothing else.

Then everything goes black.

* * *

There's an incessant sound that beeps over and over. Beep, beep, beep. A rhythmic intangible auditory hell. It keeps going without an end in sight.

With each passing second as her mind once again enters the real world the sound becomes louder and more damning.

Beep, beep, beep.

She shifts away from it and tries to hide from the noise, an attempt to drown it out as she buries her head further into the pillow beneath her.

"Mmmm turn it off" she says without opening her eyes, refusing to fully acknowledge the pounding noise that keeps trying to wake her.

"It's yours" an equally sleep ridden deep voice responds and she feels a soft tap against her leg pushing her towards it.

Just as she's about to grab the pillow beneath her and pull it over her head to kill the noise entirely, she hears another sharp sound that this time, she can't ignore.

"Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy" comes a child's voice closer and louder with each syllable and before she knows it the source of the voice comes tumbling onto the bed throwing her full weight onto it as she lands half on the mattress and half on the body beside her.

"Oww" comes a deep growl.

"Sorry daddy" says the little girl now crawling her way up the large bed to her mother's side until her knees as seated right in front of her and two little hands are grabbing either side of her face trying to wake her up.

"Mommy it's morning, time for school."

She opens her eyes and comes face to face with two large green eyes staring expectantly back at her. The little girl bounces on her hind legs at the excitement of fulfilling her goal of waking her mom and the movement becomes enough to keep Olivia from once again closing her eyes.

"Okay, okay baby girl. I'm up, I'm up." she says as she begins to finally move off the bed and turn to turn off the alarm, regretting having gone to sleep so late, but not the events that led to it. Just as she does the little girl is grabbed around the waist be a large arm and is pulled down to have rasberries blown against her sides.

"Daddy!" The little girl screams between giggles. "Daddy no!"

"Little girls who are wide awake at this hour in the morning must endure 3, no 5 straight minutes of kisses and tickles."

The girl screeches with laughter in anticipation as Fitz puts her down and wiggles his fingers over her.

"Nooo daaaddyyyy" he tickles her belly as she screams and kicks, losing her breath as the laughter grows stronger.

"Fitz you're going to make her sick" Olivia says as she steps out of her closet with her clothes in hand and catches the scene on the bed.

"She's fine" he responds as he lifts her up and places the still giggling child on his lap.

"See?"

The child smiles back at her, baby teeth and gaps in full view, as she calms down and settles into her father's arms.

"I'm not sick mommy." She defends her father.

"All right baby girl, I believe you. Now why don't you go wake your brothers while mommy gets ready for and daddy gets Benji."

"Okay!" The girl screams with excitement at the news that she would get to wake yet another two people. She begins to jump from her father's lap and he helps her by lifting her and placing her on the floor. As soon as her feet hit the carpet she's out of the room as quickly as she'd entered it.

As if on cue, the second the girl is out of the room the monitor on the nightstand next to their bed begins to make noise and the sound of 10-month-old Benjamin Grant waking is immediately heard.

"His timing is impeccable as always." Fitz says as he walks up behind his wife and gives her a kiss on the neck.

"Just like you babe." She says tapping his rear as he walks past her. He turns back to her, a look of desire in his eyes, and she softly laughs at how predictable he is.

"Not now Fitz, go." She twirls her finger in front of her telling him to turn and keep going toward their youngest son's room and he does, a look of satisfaction stays on her face watching him until she's snapped out of her thoughts by the sound of her phone getting a new message. Reading it, she quickly puts it down and once again grabs her clothes to take into the large master bathroom, her movements twice as fast as they were just moments ago.

She was going to be late.

* * *

He hasn't seen her in 3 months, 2 weeks, 2 days, and 10 hours. 3 months, 2 weeks, 2 days, and 10 months without touching her, without kissing her, without inhaling her scent and placing his hands on either side of her face as he tells her he loves her.

3 months, 2 weeks, 2 days, and 10 hours too many.

He wishes he could say he was getting used to it, that he was getting over, that he thought less about her now than he did 4 months ago but all that would be lie. The truth is there isn't a moment of the day when she's not on his mind, when he's not wondering what she's doing, or when he's not itching to reach for the phone and call her. When he's not desperate to yell and scream and throw everything against the wall, to end it all now - the presidency, the fake marriage, the way he constantly needs to pretend to be okay, to be happy. Not a moment when he doesn't wish for a different life, a simpler life.

A life with her.

But this is how she wants it. She ended it and no matter how hard he'd tried this time she was unwilling to change her mind. She never answered the phone, or her door, or listened to any of the messengers he'd sent to get her. He'd leaked her name, she'd learned the truth and she'd hurt him in the worse way she knew how.

So here he was now, another evening in the Oval Office. Another monotonous meeting and pile of paperwork to sign. Another speech to memorize and appearance to get ready for.

He was sitting now behind his desk reading the latest bill sent up by Congress, another ridiculous law they wanted to pass that had nothing to do with anything the American public actually needed. Except he wasn't even paying attention, he just kept reading the same paragraph over and over without turning the page for over 10 minutes.

Frustrated he slammed the papers on top of his desk and ran his hand through his hair and down his face. He was so sick of it he could barely breathe. He felt suffocated by these walls and his position and he wanted nothing more than to leave it all behind.

Feeling the anxiety grow within him he got up from his chair and made his way to the window behind him. Placing his hands in his pocket he stood steadily looking at the setting sun and long green pasture in front of him.

He became mesmerized by the beauty of the city and the people who came from all over to take pictures of the house he only wished he could move out of. He found it amusing when he thought about it, how they stood outside looking for him, while he so often stood on the inside watching _them_.

It helped relax him, it brought a sense of clarity to his mind that could often get lost in the political DC environment.

It was the only thing keeping him sane on most days.

Just as he felt once again calm enough to return to his previous task he heard footsteps outside his door and he turned in time to see his chief of staff open the door and close it quickly behind him.

"What is it Cyrus?" He asks as he watches the older man slowly walk toward him without meeting his eyes.

"Sir…" Cyrus starts, but doesn't finish as he halts in his steps. He takes a deep breath places his hands on his waist, his sight facing the floor as if he avoiding what he needs to do.

"Cyrus?" Fitz asks once more, a sudden sense of dread growing within him at the alarming appearance of the older man's nervousness.

"Fitz..." Cyrus finally lifts his eyes to meet the other man's gaze and finishes the statement he'd been trying to make since he entered the room.

"It's Olivia."

* * *

**Thoughts? Please review and tell me what you think! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

His heart pounded stronger with every step. His long strides allowing him to walk effortlessly fast through the never ending hospital hallway, his agents barely keeping up and his chief of staff falling ever more and more behind.

From the moment Cyrus had spoken the words out loud Fitz had sprung into action, his only mission was to reach the hospital. Cyrus had tried to stop him by telling him Olivia was still in surgery and letting him know that he couldn't see her right away, by reminding him that as president he couldn't simply sit with her all day or even night, but he didn't care. He would be by her side. He _had _to be by her side. He needed to see her the moment she woke up. If she woke up.

Slow down, take a deep breath, stay calm they kept repeating, but their words had only fell on deaf ears. How could he stay calm? How could he possibly stay calm when he'd just been told that the one person he loves more than anyone, the one person he wishes desperately he could spend the rest of his life with, the one constantly haunting his thoughts, may very well not live to see another day?

He couldn't, and he needed desperately to know he hadn't lost her.

As they reached the end of the long, empty corridor he saw a nurse in full scrubs and cap standing by waiting for them. Knowing how he would react, Cyrus had called ahead even before he'd broken the news to Fitz and informed them that they had a patient who would be receiving a very VIP visit. Being used it by then the hospital had easily accommodated them and had prepared a room on a private floor where Fitz could go visit.

Now the nurse looked confidently at him, apparently unfazed by the presence of the powerful man walking her way, and waited as Fitz slowed to a stop in front of her, Cyrus quickly running up to stand next to him.

"Where is she?" Fitz demanded before the nurse could even open her mouth to speak, his voice gruff and his brow furrowed as he peered into the woman's eyes waiting for an answer.

"She's still in surgery Mr. President. She has a number of injuries which need to be treated and at this time our estimate is it will be another 2 hours before she's out."

"What happened to her? What are they fixing exactly?"

"I'm sorry, I can take you to the waiting room and give you small updates but as far as her medical condition I can only speak to fam - "

"He's her medical proxy." Cyrus jumped in before Fitz could answer, sensing the heated anger radiating from him with every passing second.

The nurse looked at him quizzically, not expecting the retort and Fitz turned to him eyebrows raised in response to his statement.

"It's right here," Cyrus said ignoring both of their reactions as pulled a piece of paper from his jacket pocket. "I had it faxed over from her attorney as soon as I heard, your doctors should already have a copy as well." He handed the paper to the nurse and she took it, reading it carefully as Fitz continued to stare down the man next to him.

"How long have you known this?"

"She told me right after she did it." Cyrus answered, not meeting Fitz's eyes but watching the nurse instead. "It was soon after you got shot. She saw how difficult things had been for her because she wasn't considered family and she didn't want to put you through the same thing, I just don't think she believed it would ever actually come to that."

Fitz could only stare at him in confusion, the words losing their meaning by the shock of what they signified.

"She said she trusted you, "Cyrus continued, finally matching his stare, "that you would know what to do."

"I -I -" Fitz started but couldn't finish. Olivia had never uttered a word of it to him in all the times they'd spoken. The shooting had been well over a year ago and they'd ended things a number of times since; still it appeared she'd never opted to change her mind.

"Sir," the nurse interrupted as she folded up the paper and put it into her shirt pocket, "if you will follow me I'll update you on Miss Pope's condition."

* * *

"Come on Benji this is good stuff, I know you want to eat it." Olivia moved the spoon toward the baby's mouth like an airplane, trying to catch him by surprise as he laughed at the spoon-plane heading his way but every time she got close the child would close his mouth again not allowing an ounce of mashed carrots to get into it.

Olivia sighed and put the spoon down listening as Benji laughed once again, this time at her frustration.

"You love torturing me don't you?" She asked as if expecting an answer but the boy only laughed some more.

"You need help?" A voice asked surprising her. Olivia looked up to find Fitz standing by the door watching her with his hands on his hips and a smirk on his face.

Olivia smiled back and put the spoon down, pushing her chair away ready to give up.

"Do you think you could get him to eat?" She asked with a challenging tone.

"Mmhmm," he stepped forward and she stood up allowing him to take her seat as he cooed at the baby who was flapping his arms screaming 'dada' in excitement.

"Your first mistake was heating up the carrots. Benji hates carrots, don't you Benj?" In response the baby flapped his arms harder, smacking the his hands against the table in front of him hitting the spoon and getting carrots all over his hands.

"Seriously?" she asked as she took a paper towel and began cleaning the table.

"Yup, always has, probably always will." Fitz answered and grabbed Benji's bib to wipe the carrots off his face and hands.

"Are peas okay?" Olivia asked as she threw the towels away and reached for another container from one of the cupboards.

"Mashed peas are great, he loves those." She heated up the peas as he put the carrots into the sink and grabbed a clean bib, ex-changing the soiled one for a new one.

"I feel horrible that I didn't know that." Olivia confessed as she brought the peas to him.

"It's okay babe." Fitz said giving her a reassuring smile. "Remember when I forgot that Connor hates Oreos and brought two packets home instead of the chocolate chips only to have him throw a tantrum?"

She laughed vividly remembering the scene. She was pregnant with their third child and Connor, their oldest, had been begging for cookies all day, but with her constant morning sickness she didn't want to get out of the house. Instead, she asked Fitz to bring some home. Needless to say he had to go back out only minutes after arriving home and had to take the boy with him to make sure he got exactly what he wanted.

"Yeah, I think that's why Ally loves them so much." She teased and he laughed as he started to feed their youngest. She watched him silently for a moment, lost in the memories of their past adventures whilst also admiring how careful and caring he was with their son. It was one of the things she loved most about him, how good he was with their kids, all four of them. He was gentle and attentive and never too tired to play a game or tell one more story.

"You okay hon?" Fitz asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Your arm." He signaled with his elbow and she caught herself absentmindedly rubbing her left arm.

"Oh, yea, I think I bumped it on something." She responded and quickly ceased movements feeling somewhat self-conscous.

He looked at her for a moment, but then shrugged it off. "Okay, just be careful next time babe."

"I will – "

"Daddy, daddy!" she got cut off by a sudden small voice coming from outside. They both looked up to see their second son, Matty, standing near the glass door which led to the backyard with a football in one hand and knocking on the glass with the other as he waited for Fitz to answer.

"I'll be right there Matt." Fitz replied knowing that he was calling him to go back outside to finish the game he and the kids had started.

"Okay, don't take too long!" the 6-year old said and then ran back to meet his siblings who appeared to be playing a game of tag with 4-year old Ally chasing her oldest brother Connor around. The 7-year old easily outran his sister, but was quickly falling as soon as Matty came up behind her and chased him down.

"Do you remember when it was just two of them and all they wanted to do was watch _Toy Story_ all day?" Olivia asked as they watched the scene unfold outside where a simple game of tag had rapidly turned into wrestling between the two boys with their sister cheering them on.

"Yeah and do you remember when Matty used to cry anytime he went outside because he didn't want to touch the grass?" Fitz replied.

"Oh yeah, that I definitely do remember, I had to hold him the whole time to keep you from playing 'watch the baby cry on command.'"

"He loves it now doesn't he!" Fitz laughed as Olivia tried to give him her best 'not amused' look but was soon also smiling.

They watched for a bit longer, while Fitz continued to feed Benji until they caught Ally falling back after she got a bit too close to her brothers' games. Seeing her face begin to change while the boys remained oblivious to it Fitz finally put the spoon down and got up from his seat.

"I better go back before it turns into complete chaos," he said giving Olivia a peck on the lips as she took the spoon from him and sat back down to finish the feeding.

"All right baby, have fun. I'll come out in a bit." She watched as he went directly to pick Ally up, who was holding her arms up waiting for him, and said something to the boys who immediately stopped their fighting and stood up with Connor grabbing the ball Matty had dropped earlier.

Going back to the task at hand Olivia dipped the spoon into the mashed peas Fitz had been feeding Benji and turned to the baby to find him smiling, looking as happy as can be.

"You're not going to give me any more trouble are you?" she asked as she moved the spoon to the baby's mouth and he took it without protest. "I guess daddy was right after all."

* * *

"What do you mean you can't tell me more?!"

"Sir, I've told you all we know for now. Her injuries are extensive, she'll recover from them in time but there was a lot of swelling of the brain. We were able to reduce it but she fell into a coma when she got here and hasn't woken since. We've run tests and there _doesn't appear_ to be any permanent damage that we can see, but we won't know for sure until she wakes up."

"And when will that be?"

The doctor shook his head, his frustration as evident as the man's in front of him. It was his third time explaining this and they only seemed to be going in circles.

"It could be today, could be next week. Could be longer. We don't know for sure."

Cyrus sighed in anger and turned away from the doctor. Not knowing was not an answer, it wasn't an option. In his line of work there was never a point where he simply didn't know something, he always knew, he went out his way to know. It was what made him so great at it.

More specifically, not knowing wasn't going to get his president away from Olivia's bedside and back to the White House where he belonged.

"Tell me again, from the beginning, tell me everything."

The doctor sighed and hung his head, his hands on his hips as he prepared to tell the other man what he knew once again.

"She came in around 4pm this afternoon. It was a motor vehicle accident. According to the officers at the scene her car was hit on the driver's side by another driver who failed to stop at the red light."

"And the bastard is fine."

"He is. His air bag went off. He was examined here earlier but he only had a few scratches and as soon as he sobered up he was taken in."

"Okay, okay, okay," Cyrus said moving his hand in a forward motion to speed the doctor along. "What about Olivia?"

"Her air bag went off but because she was hit on the side the motion made her body bounce back against the side window. When she came in she still semi-conscious but we quickly lost her. There was a lot of bleeding which caused swelling, she received a severe concussion from the impact which is what we believe is keeping her from waking up now. She was never without oxygen and we believe we stopped the bleeding in time, but at this point there is nothing we can do but wait."

"What about the rest of it? Will she be fine once she does wake up?"

The doctor shook his head.

"She has a broken radius and a lot of bruising on the left arm. Two cracked ribs and a sprained right ankle. Apart from reducing the swelling in the brain and stopping the bleeding, there was also lacerations on the spleen, which we were able to fix. Like I said Mr. Beene, physically she's stable right now, it's just of matter of waiting for her to wake up."

Cyrus nodded.

"Okay, fine. Thanks. You can go now." He said waiving his hand dismissively.

The doctor narrowed his eyes, taken aback by Cyrus's reaction, then straightened up and left.

Once gone Cyrus turned back to the ICU room Olivia was in and looked down at his phone. He had calls to make; he needed to decide what his next move was. To figure out how he would get Fitz out of there, to make plans if the worst indeed did happen.

Not knowing what to do yet and not wanting to think about the latter he glanced back up and caught a glimpse of the image through the glass window.

Olivia was lying on a hospital bed completely unmoving. She had bandages wrapped around her head and a breathing tube down her throat along with various wires and machines all around her.

Cyrus stepped closer to the window, carefully peering through to see the full picture. Olivia's left arm was hidden completely under a cast, but her right was resting lightly on the bed. He followed it down to her hand and he found it enclosed entirely within Fitz's much larger ones. Looking up he found the man seated by her bedside, hunched over with her hand between his. When he looked at his face, he was surprised by what he saw, however. His mouth was moving, he was speaking to her, saying something inaudible from where he was standing, but what stopped him in his spot were his eyes.

He was crying. Fitz was crying.

It wasn't loud or obvious at first glance, but it was easy to see once you looked for it. His brow was tense with his eyes closed, shut tightly, and they were glistening with tears waiting to fall.

Cyrus turned away from the scene, unwilling to see more. He'd come back in the morning.

* * *

**I'm sorry it took me so long to update, I had a bit of trouble for a bit deciding on some things, but I think I have it now. I promise it won't take so long again. Let me know what you think! :)**


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